The Letter I Never Sent
by daizygrl320
Summary: If Cammie didn't know how she felt towards Zachary Goode... well, she does now. Set during the winter break before her last semester at Gallagher Academy. Feel free to leave a review/critique!


**The Letter I Never Sent**

PROS AND CONS OF SPENDING WINTER BREAK AT THE GALLAGHER ACADEMY

A list by Cameron Morgan

CON: THE NOISE. Because there is none. As much as a girl can complain about annoying roommates who blow dry their hair every day, practice their "kung fu warrior yell" every night before bed, and read their textbooks out loud while you're trying to study, a girl can miss these things when she only hears the hum of her bedside light each night.

PRO: THE WHISPERS. Because there are none. With all the students gone for break there are no rumors or chatty gossip floating through the hallways about a certain spy's disappearance the previous semester. A girl could get use to that, if given the chance.

CON: THE MOTHER. Because when a girl is accustomed to speaking to her mother only once every week it makes for some awkward silences when they see each other almost every day. Also, the uncomfortable feeling a girl gets when her mother tells her she's leaving for a few days to a place the girl doesn't have high enough clearance to know about is... uncomfortable. And it leaves said girl with Mr. Smith, Dr. Fibs, and Bubblegum Guard for company.

CON: THE FOOD. Because our 5-star chef leaves every Winter Break to spend Christmas with his family in Santa Monica. Any unfortunate person left behind in the Gallagher mansion must make their own meals, or, in the case of the Headmistress's daughter, put up with three weeks of the Headmistress's cooking (It may take up to a month into second semester for said daughter's digestive system to get back on track).

PRO: THE RESEARCH. Because being nearly alone in a mansion for three weeks gives a girl plenty of time to plan for next semester's takedown of an international criminal organization. With resources such as the entire Gallagher library, high quality web-decryption tools stolen from the storage room behind the second floor display case, and Mr. Smith (who hasn't given up any information...yet), what girl wouldn't do some research?

CON: THE BOREDOM. Because after catching up on missed homework, researching possible Circle members, and working out in the P&E barn, a girl is left with nothing to do but wander around the school or hang out with her mom, Mr. Smith, Dr, Fibs, or Bubblegum Guard. A girl would usually choose the former option.

-GG-

Spies are supposed to break the rules. Spies are supposed to be _good_ at breaking the rules. It was because of this fact that I didn't feel bad about taking a crowbar to the metal grill that led into the mansions old ventilation tunnels and, instead, thought about it as an extra-credit assignment.

This was the fifth secret passageway that I was reopening this break. They had all been closed a year before because the Circle of Cavan, an ancient terrorist organization, had been after one of Gallagher Academy's students. Me. However, now that the Circle was no longer after me I felt perfectly in my right to revamp the mansion to its former clandestine glory.

After working on the grill for seven minutes and thirty-four seconds, I finally wrenched the grill from the wall and a cloud of dust blew into my face as it clattered to the floor. As I squeezed my nose and held my breath to keep from sneezing, I looked left and right down the hall to make sure no one was coming to investigate the noise. (Not that there were many people here who would care. Mr. Smith walked in on me unbarring the fireplace in an empty room and just winked at me and walked out.)

Once the dust had settled I laid on my stomach and army crawled into the narrow opening. I made it about four feet in before realizing that my clothing was greatly restricting my ability to move in the small space. I mean, as much as I loved the break from my school uniform, I had to admit that skirts (when a girl isn't worried about modesty) offer much better mobility than jeans. Wedged in the ventilation shaft, I weighed my options. I could go back and take the 15 minutes to change into more suitable clothing, or proceed, regardless of how much extra time it would take me to reach the opening at the other end of the shaft.

Hey, it wasn't like there were any classes I had to make it to, and the mansion was currently absent of my personal bodyguards who came in the form of my three best friends and roommates. What the heck, I thought and decided to move forward.

"Cammie?"

What was it I had said about my three personal bodyguards being absent? I guess I forgot about the fourth one. My mother.

"Yes?" I tried to sound as innocent as I could be, trapped in a the middle of an army crawl through a ventilation shaft. I turned my head as much as I could and saw a sliver of my mother's face, crouched and peering in at me, over my shoulder.

"I see that, given all your free time, you have resorted to your old extra-curricular activities."

"Yeah, I guess." I said, pushing myself, albeit slowly, backwards and out of the shaft. (Again, note to self: Do not wear jeans when crawling through anything smaller than the opening of a washing machine door.)

"Maybe I should have sent you to your grandparent's after all," my mother said as I backed out into the hallway. Her voice sounded serious but when I looked up she was smiling.

I didn't really know what to say to that. I wasn't sorry for breaking the protective measures that the school had set for me, but by the look on my mom's face I wasn't sure if I even _should_ be sorry. So, instead of saying anything I just stood up and brushed the dust from my jeans as my mom said, "Why don't you come to my office and eat something. I made pizza rolls.", which really did sound good compared to Saturday's chicken fettuccini cooking failure.

I walked next to my mom trying to get the uncomfortable wedgie from my (short) adventure to go away, when my mom spoke.

"Mr. Smith told me you were opening the old passageways," (I would be lying if I said I didn't feel a little offended at the use of the word "old" - they'd only been closed up a year ago!) "and with my being called away the past couple days I didn't know if I'd be able to find you at all. You know this castle better than anyone. Better than me."

As we reached the Hall of History she grabbed my hand and smiled at me. It was the smile of a proud mother. A smile I felt like I didn't deserve. It took me a few seconds to remember why my chest felt tight and my hand held my mother's a little stronger than it should have: this was my last semester coming up. The Gallagher Academy had been my home for so many years that I couldn't imagine a life outside these walls, but the days I had here with my mother were numbered.

I slowed as we reached her office door, desperately trying to quell the breach of tears that I knew were threatening to fall.

My mom looked back at me and pulled me into her office. " I have something to show you."

I sat on the sofa in my mom's office while she rummaged through the drawers of her desk. The smell of pizza rolls wafted over from the microwave on the far side of the room.

"Mom?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" My mom answered, still intent on finding whatever it was she wanted to show me.

"Were you at Langley?"

My mother looked up at me. Her eyes held mine for a moment as if she were debating something and then she gave a curt nod, "Yes, Cammie. I was."

"How much do they know?"

She sighed and came to sit down beside me.

"Only as much as they need to know. Most of what occurred last semester was strictly off-the-record, and yet, certain facts had to be disclosed." She stopped and looked at me, as if torn between knowing I was a student and knowing that I was almost an employable agent. She continued.

"Dr. Steven Sanders is now on the CIA watchlist. The Circle is staging a coup. The names of the Circle leaders were lost after our... rendezvous with a Circle member in Ireland. You do not remember what happened last summer and have been under the influence of Dr. Steven Sanders for the past five months."

She looked at me pointedly and I nodded. It was all the truth. Just not all _of_ the truth.

"Cam," she leaned forward on her elbows. "You have to promise me you aren't going to go after the Circle yourself. Right now you have important names, yes, but you are in no position to try anything. Do you understand me?"

"Mom, I think I learned my lesson last summer when I took them on alone."

"I know, Cammie. Just promise me. There are operatives who are older and well-trained at dealing with organizations like this, okay?"

The look in my mom's eyes was so desperate that I wanted to be the good daughter and just concede. But I was a spy. And more importantly, I was a Gallagher Girl. And Gallagher Girl's finish what they start. And right now I had a box of research on the Circle under my bed and a team of near-future-spies ready to take them down. So I did what all good spies, and all good Gallagher Girl's do best: I lied.

"I promise, Mom."

She visibly relaxed and smiled at me.

"Now I need to give you something," she stood and returned to rummaging at her desk. "I should have given it to you awhile ago but I forgot and you, well..."

_ And I hadn't been myself_, I finished in my head.

"Oh, here it is."

She pulled from her middle drawer a small white envelope, and walked around her desk to hand it to me. The envelope had no postmark or address. It was simply a letter-envelope with the name 'Zach' scrawled on the front in my own handwriting.

"What is this?"

"Abby found this at the embassy in Rome. It was slipped between paneling in the wall of the bedroom you used when you stayed there last summer."

I flipped the envelope over.

"You opened it." I said, sensing the faint trace of resealing glue on the envelope flap.

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice." my mom admitted. "I'm sorry, but I had to open it, Cam. It could have told us something."

"Did it?"

My mom sighed. "No, otherwise I would have shared it with you. I did, however, test the ink on the envelope and it's from the same pen you used to write the names on the jewelry packages you sent from Rome. I've only guessed that you originally meant to send this with the other packages but you decided against it."

She leaned over and brushed my hair back.

"In any case, it's yours," she kissed my head. "and you can choose if you want to give it to him."

I stared down at the letter as my mom moved away from me to retrieve the pizza rolls from the microwave. What would I have written to Zach in Rome? What did I feel he needed to know?

I was tempted to open it right there, but, instead, I carefully tucked it into the pocket of my jeans. My thoughts never strayed far from the letter, but I didn't take it out and it wasn't spoken of again as we finished our pizza rolls and settled in for a movie.

-GG-

That night I sat on my bed looking down at the envelope in my lap. I imagined what my roommates would say. No doubt, they would rip it from my grasp and read it for me.

But I was scared. I knew that a Gallagher Girl (especially one who can overpower a grown man in 1.3 seconds - my best time) shouldn't be afraid of whatever was in that envelope, but I couldn't help it. I was reminded of something my dad had told me when I was little. "Fear is not a bad thing," he'd said. "It's good. Sometimes you notice things out of fear that you would never have noticed before."

Looking down at the envelope in my lap I noticed the creases that ran around the edges of the paper. I'd seen them plenty of times before: on my Computing Final in 8th Grade, on the notes I'd received from Josh my sophomore year, on the photograph of my dad I keep in a triple-coded safe in my bottom drawer. It was a nervous habit.

I also noticed the force with which my pen had written his name on the paper. It was a force that my well-trained eye recognized as being 'written under duress'. I had been stressed when I wrote his name. Had I realized the Circle knew where I was? Had I just had a bad day? Or was it something I had written in the letter -something I had (or hadn't) told Zach?

Ah, just get it over with, I thought. Trying not to think too much about it, I ripped open the envelope and unfolded the piece of paper within.

**Zach,**

** I couldn't think of anything to get you.**

** I'm sorry.**

** I've been doing some thinking. I want you to know that I really do like you. I may even love you.**

** Cam**

I read the note at least ten times through, memorizing the words and memorizing the way my pen had hesitated in writing the truth.

_ I loved him._

Or at least I had thought I loved him. I imagined Summer Me walking through the streets of Rome, pacing my bedroom at the embassy, spending time with Preston Winters... and deciding that I was in love with Zachary Goode.

The words felt strange in my head, so I spoke them out loud.

"I'm in love with Zachary Goode."

I thought back to the semester when I had first met the arrogant, cocky boy who seemed to have a crush on me. I remembered our witty banter and my frustration with him. I remembered the feeling of him dipping me in the Grand Hall and the feeling of his body pressed against mine on the train in Pennsylvania. I remembered his lips, passionate and desperate with the urge to run, and I remembered his arms, strong and protective, as I cried only a few weeks ago. He'd been there for me at the worst of times.

I know it sounds all lovey-dovey and cliché, but I had been there for him at the worst of his times, too. I had seen his protective layers fall before my eyes and, to tell you the truth, I liked the man I saw beneath. No, I loved the man I saw beneath.

Josh Abrams was a nice guy. He really was. It was almost comical to me, though, how the mention of his name used to make me blush. Now, the mere thought of Zach caused my heart to go into overdrive and butterflies to fly around my stomach. And Zach _knew_ me. _All_ of me. The good and the ugly. (Well, he didn't know about my spray-tan disaster freshman year, but that's not really necessary information, right?)

I looked at the letter in my hand. Where was Zach now? My mom had said he was somewhere with Mr. Solomon. I could give him the letter once he got back.

Yet, I knew that wasn't what I would do. Heck, I _couldn't _do that. Maybe Summer Me would have sent that letter, but I couldn't hand over a semi-proclamation of love through a letter I wrote months ago when I thought I might never see him again! No. The sentiments were true, but I would find my own way to tell him.

I smiled and put the letter back into the envelope. Getting onto my knees, I found an old textbook under my bed and tucked the letter within its pages. As I pushed the book back to where it came from my eyes fell on the shoebox of Circle research that had consumed much of my break so far.

In a few weeks Zach would be back. So would my three best friends. Together we would take the Circle down and, for Macey, it seemed that we would be starting with Samuel Winters. And maybe, sometime this semester, I could talk to Zach. Tell him in person what Summer Me could barely say in a letter.

I laid down in my bed and turned off the light. This would be my last semester at Gallagher Academy. It would mark the end of a lot of things. School. Childhood. The Circle.

But I knew that it would also be a beginning. After all, I thought as I closed my eyes, the real fun begins after you graduate.


End file.
